


The Camera Eye: Rearview Mirror

by puss_nd_boots



Series: The Camera Eye [61]
Category: Royz, 己龍 | Kiryuu
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mahiro thought he'd put being in the horror industry behind him for good – when one of his own videos suddenly resurfaces in a way he'd never dreamed of. But is he comfortable slipping back into an identity he's shed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Camera Eye: Rearview Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Part of an ongoing porn industry AU series. Royz and Kiryu belong to BP Records, I own the story only. Creepycon and Scream Gems International are both of my own invention (although Scream Gems is an obvious pun on Screen Gems (whose old logo many people have found scary – Google “The S From Hell.”)

With everything that Mahiro had to think about in his present life, he didn't give much thought to his horror film past.

After all, he had a major role in a major video (Kabuki Disco) on his horizon, he had the new developments in his relationship with Mahiro, and there was the matter of Hayato, who he wanted to get to know – but hadn't seemed to be able to connect with yet. (Their schedules just weren't lining up).

So the last thing he was expecting to find one morning, as he was getting ready to go into the office and meet with Kobe about the new production, was a text from one of his old directors.

“Hope things are going okay in your new career,” it said. (Well, Mahiro thought, obviously he hasn't been following it closely, or he'd know I'm doing okay). “You won't believe this, but we have a cult hit in America. Scream Gems International released Kyuubi over there and it's taken off.”

Mahiro blinked. Did he read that right? He shook the phone, adjusted the light, and looked again. Yep, he was right the first time. Cult hit in America. What the hell would Americans know about fox demon legends – would they even be able to follow the story?

Maybe this guy had it wrong. Maybe it had been released in Korea, not America – one or two of Mahiro's other films had made it over there. Well, there was just one way to find out, was there? And so, he did what he'd never done before – Googled one of his own videos.

Sure enough, there was an article in a trade publication about how Scream Gems International – an American company that specialized in imports – was bringing a new generation of J-horror to worldwide attention via both streaming and Blu-Ray/DVD platforms.

“Of particular note,” the article said, “is the Japanese film Kyuubi, released by Scream Gems under the title Curse of the Fox Demon. It has far surpassed expectations in terms of both sales and online views, thanks largely to a deeply creepy trailer . . .”

“HEY!” said Junji behind him, making Mahiro jump a mile in the air, the phone flying across the room like a guided missile. Junji leaped out from behind his lover, diving like a centerfielder trying to keep the opposing team from scoring three runs, and caught the device before it hit the floor.

“Don't scare me like that!” Mahiro said. “I nearly had a heart attack!”

“So says the former horror star?” Junji said, handing the phone back. “Thought it would take a lot to scare you.”

“It seems I'm not just a Japanese horror star anymore,” Mahiro said. “One of my films has gone international. That's what I was reading.”

“No kidding?” Junji looked over Mahiro's shoulder. “Whoa, it was Kyuubi? Isn't that the one where you . . .”

“Commit very bloody seppuku, yes,” Mahiro said. “Which is probably why the Americans like it. They like their horror as blood-soaked as possible.” He put the phone down. “I haven't even thought about that stuff in so long. I mean, I made that film about three years ago.”

“Guess the wheels of international release turn slow,” Junji said. “Hey, think of it this way – you're getting attention in America. Not every guy in our industry can say that.”

“Uruha said PSC has a pretty decent following in America,” Mahiro said. “There's women over there who get hold of the Japanese videos, rip them and upload them. Some of the stuff is even subtitled. Plus, they've got a few of their videos coming out legitimately over there.”

“Well, guess what?” Junji said. “If your films get watched over there, that means you'll have conquered America in TWO genres! How many guys can say that?”

Mahiro didn't want to say that he'd thought he'd put that part of his life behind him – and now, no pun intended, it was coming back to haunt him.

* * *

As surprising as the news of his film's American following was, that was nothing compared to what awaited him a couple of days later.

He'd just had test shots taken of his samurai outfits when his phone went off. He grabbed it, thinking he must make a strange-looking picture – a man in an ancient costume holding a modern device. “Hello?”

“Mahiro!” It was his messenger from the other day, the director of Kyuubi. “Good to hear your voice again! How are you doing?”

“Getting ready to shoot a new video,” he said. “What's up?”

“You're not going to believe this,” said the director. “Scream Gems is doing a panel at Creepycon – a big horror convention in California. They're inviting a few people from their videos to take part in it . . . and we've been chosen to represent Japan.”

“Are you kidding?” Mahiro said. “You're speaking at a con in America?”

“No, WE'RE speaking at a con in America,” said the director. “They asked for me, Motoki” - Hanema Motoki, the lead in the film - “and you. In fact, they asked for you specifically.”

“Me?” said Mahiro. “But . . . but I can't speak English!”

“Not a problem,” the director said. “We'll have an interpreter. Now, the con is . . .” He named a weekend during the summer. “Think your porno bosses will let you off the hook then?”

“I . . . I'll speak to Uruha and Kobe,” Mahiro said. “When do they have to hear back?”

“By tomorrow, if possible. It's a cushy deal they're offering – air and hotel. Heck, they even offered to fly out a plus-one for each of us.”

In his case, the plus-one would be Junji. He would have liked to have taken Subaru and Tomoya as well, but four airfares would be pricey . . . and good luck explaining polyamorous porn relationships to the outside world. “I'll let you know,” Mahiro said.

He just stood there holding the phone, in a daze. Now he was a big enough star to get invited to a con. This was nuts.

* * *

“Why would you turn down a sweet deal like that?” Junji said to him in “Pornbucks” later on. “Free air to California, free hotel, interpreter services . . .”

“I haven't turned it down,” Mahiro said. “At least . . . not yet.”

“Why would you even consider it, then?” Junji said. “Most actors would think of this as the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Because . . .” Mahiro looked away. How could he explain what he was feeling?

“You asked Uruha and he okayed the time, right?”

“No problem there,” Mahiro said. “He was thrilled for me.”

“Well, what is it, then?”

Mahiro twisted his straw wrapper around his finger. “It's that, well . . . I've moved on from all that. It's part of my past. I'm not ashamed of having been in horror – I had some great times there, and I might have stayed if not for . . .”

“Narrow-minded casting directors?”

Mahiro sighed. “Yes. The whole prejudice against me for being too short, which is why I left it in the rear-view mirror. And once I settled into porn, and I was happy? I never looked back. I never wanted to. This is where I belong. Going back to thinking of myself as a horror actor again would be, well, a step backward.”

“You're not doing it full-time, you know,” Junji said. “Not like you're leaving porn permanently.” Pause. “You wouldn't, right?”

Mahiro shook his head. “No. I just don't think of myself as a horror film actor anymore. It's like, well . . . a skin I've shed.”

“In a horrid, bloody way!” Junji said, in an overly-dramatic, creepy tone of voice, standing up and forming his hands into claws. “With entrails flying everywhere and eyeballs rolling on the floor and . . .”

“Okay, okay, that's enough of that,” Mahiro said. “Look, I'll sleep on it.”

“You don't sound like you'll be sleeping on it too hard.”

“It's, well . . . something I can't decide right away.”

“It can be a honeymoon for us, you know. We've never had one. We can take a selfie cuddling by the Hollywood sign!”

“It's not in that part of California,” Mahiro said. “It's in Silicon Valley.”

“We'll take a picture of us cuddling by Google's headquarters, then.”

Mahiro definitely didn't want to let his lover down – Junji sounded like he really wanted to go. But was he completely comfortable taking back on an identity he'd left behind?

* * *

When they left Starbucks, Junji had to go for his own costume test shots. Mahiro went back to the apartment – where he found he wasn't going to be alone for long.

He'd no sooner gone into the kitchen to get water when Subaru messaged him. “Hi. Tomoya's with your friends who are writers, they asked him to help them finish the script. Mind if I come over for a few?”

“I don't mind at all,” Mahiro replied. “Come right over.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later there was a bouncing blond on his doorstep, throwing himself into Mahiro's embrace. “Hi!” he said. “How has your day been?”

“Confusing, in a way,” Mahiro said.

“Confusing? How so?”

“Come in and have a seat,” Mahiro said. “I'll tell you.”

So he poured the whole thing out to Subaru – the message about his film taking off in America, the invitation to Creepycon, and his reluctance to revisit a part of his life he'd put behind him.

“But . . . they never treated you badly, did they?” Subaru said. “I mean, other than calling you too short to be a hero.”

“No,” Mahiro said. “They treated me well, in fact – even when they were covering me with fake wounds and blood. It's not like I have anything against the industry. It's just, well . . . I feel like I've graduated from it. It would be like you going back to your university – wouldn't you feel a bit strange?”

“Maybe,” Subaru said. “It would feel at home . . . and at the same time, not at home. And it would really feel funny going back there as a porn star.”

“That's just it,” Mahiro said. “I'd feel funny going in front of a horror audience as a porn star. That's just not ME anymore. It feels, well . . . dishonest.”

“They don't have to know you're a porn star now,” Subaru said. “In fact, in America, it's probably better if they don't – I heard they're funny about porn over there.”

“Oh, I've heard,” Mahiro said. “They all say loudly that porn is disgusting and immoral while they're all secretly watching it. But yeah, they don't have to know . . . but I would know.”

“But things that are in our pasts . . . they're still a part of us, right?” Subaru said. “I mean, we grow up and move away from our families, but they're part of us. Friends come and go out of our lives, but we still have our memories of them. And you've moved on from horror, but it's where you got your start. It's where your roots are, right?”

“Well, yes,” Mahiro said.

“And your old performances, they're a part of you, too. People are still watching them and enjoying them. They're not quite what you're doing now, but . . .” He reached out and took Mahiro's hand. “It's still YOU they're watching. It's a younger you, but it's still YOU.”

Subaru did have a point. Okay, he might have left the horror industry in the dust when he moved on to porn . . . but people still were enjoying those films. They were watching them on the other side of the world, yet.

“Hey,” Subaru said, “can you show me the film you got invited to the con for? I've never seen any of your horror work before.”

Mahiro paused. “Are you sure you want to see it?” he said. “It's really bloody. The company I worked for didn't go for atmospheric ghost stories – they were into American-style blood-and-guts horror, and they wanted to combine that with Japanese storytelling techniques.”

“I'm sure,” Subaru said. “It's all fake, right?”

“Well, yes, it's fake. Just be prepared that it's a very real-looking fake, okay?” Mahiro walked to the TV, found the shelf with his own DVDs on it – both porn and horror – and pulled Kyuubi down. It had been a long time since he'd seen it. He'd have to reacquaint himself with it if he was going to speak at the con, right? That is, IF he decided to speak at the con.

“Okay,” he said, loading it into the player. “Here we go.”

He sat on the couch next to the younger man and looked at the screen . . .

And from the first frames, time seemed to melt away. He remembered being on that set. He could just about feel the cold drizzle that plagued them the night they filmed his first scene. He recalled the flubbed lines that made everyone laugh, the little victory dance one of his co-stars did at the end of every successful take, the makeup man who got antsy over the budget because they were using so many fake blood packets in a single day. . .

Oh, this set was a nice atmosphere, all right, despite the film's dark imagery and subject matter. Cast and crew all got along, all pulled together – the actors even assisted the effects crew in a couple of cases. It was . . . not unlike a porn set.

He was so into the film, into his memories, that he barely noticed Subaru next to him. But he slowly became conscious of the younger man perched on the edge of his seat, completely immersed in what was in front of him.

And then, came his big scene, when his character – after seeing two other people die because of the fox demon and procuring amulets to try to protect himself – succumbed to the evil himself, and committed seppuku at the command of the ninetails. He saw himself in a white kimono, which he tore open in order to stab himself . . .

Then came the silhouette of his blood spurting from his belly, with a shadow of the fox demon laughing beside him. And then a closeup of him writhing, blood spewing from his abdomen and mouth . . .

Holy crap, Mahiro thought. I . . . I did well here, didn't I? This looks . . . real. And terrifying.

He became aware of Subaru clutching his arm, burying his face in his shoulder, hiding his gaze from the TV. “Baby?” Mahiro said. “What's wrong?”

“I . . . I can't watch. When it was other people dying, it was one thing, I knew it was just all make-believe, but since it's you . . .” He raised his head. “It's like some kind of nightmare.”

“It's supposed to look like some kind of nightmare, love. It's horror.”

“No, it looks like my own nightmare. It was like . . . watching you die. For real. I couldn't take that . . . the idea of losing you.”

“It's okay,” Mahiro said. “You're not losing me. I'm right here and alive. It was all blood packets and makeup . . . and acting.”

“Damn good acting,” Subaru said, shivering. “I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight.”

Mahiro shut off the video. “Would you be able to sleep if if I made sure to assure you that I'm in one piece?”

He brought his lips to Subaru's softly, only to be rewarded with a fierce, hard kiss, Subaru's arms winding around Mahiro, drawing him close. Mahiro increased the intensity as well, lips opening, tongue pushing toward Subaru's . . .

Okay, that was supposed to be a single kiss – but it escalated quickly. Not that Mahiro was exactly minding. If it was physical contact Subaru needed, he was getting it.

They got up from the couch and quickly moved toward the bedroom, shutting the door and kissing again . . . stopping to unfasten their shirts and drop them on the floor, then kissing . . . pausing to unfasten pants, then more kissing . . .

They tumbled to the bed, both naked, clinging to each other. Subaru quickly turned Mahiro over on his back and began to kiss down his chest, working downward slowly . . . but when he paused, it wasn't over a nipple, it was over his heart.

He lowered his head, so that he could hear the gentle beating, a reassurance that the other man was, yes, very much alive and thriving. And besides, it just seemed so intimate, to listen to that sound, to the very source of life within him.

Subaru moved his mouth upward, kissing and licking at the nipple, reaching downward with one hand to run his fingers over the growing length, caressing it gently. He paused at the base, stroking the place where Mahiro's cock joined his balls, listening to his lover's low groan of satisfaction.

Then, he began to kiss lower again, sliding down Mahiro's belly, pausing . . . right at the point where his character had thrust the sword in during that scene of the movie. And there, Subaru began to lay kisses in a horizontal line, as if he were tracing the shape of the sword wound . . .

Almost as if he could kiss it and make it better.

It didn't matter that Mahiro knew damn well that the scene was fake, that there was a blood packet under his kimono, that he'd been using a retractable katana that collapsed as he pressed it against his body. There was something, well, oddly touching about Subaru's desire to extend love and healing to his character . . . and by extension, him.

Subaru traced the line he'd just been kissing with his tongue, feeling like he could seal the sword wound from the film up, make his lover whole again. He was feeling as much caught up in that fantasy as in the reality of the moment, in the scent and taste of Mahiro's skin, the feel of his warmth, the sound of his long, low pleasure sounds.

When he finally moved down all the way, taking Mahiro's erection in his mouth, he could feel the heat of it against his lips, the other man's pulse as Subaru pressed his tongue against a vein. There seemed to be life throbbing all around him – which made him suck harder, moving his head back and forth while moaning softly in his throat.

Mahiro closed his eyes, leaning back, luxuriating in the feel of that mouth enveloping him, the incredible skill that his lover showed – Subaru just didn't know how good he was, he tended to sell himself short sometimes in the blow job department.

He couldn't think very straight right now, not when that wicked tongue was curling so perfectly against the spot right at the bottom of the head, flicking back and forth, rapidly brushing . . . and that was followed by those lips tightening around him, sucking hard as he moved back and forth.

Mahiro had a sudden inspiration as Subaru moved faster, making him moan louder, thrusting his hips upward to plunge deeper into that velvety wetness. The older man raised his head. “Baby, I . . .”

Subaru gently eased Mahiro out of his mouth. “You want me to stop?” he said.

“Only so we can do this.” Mahiro moved down to the foot of the bed – which offered a great view of the full-length mirror directly opposite it. “Come down here.”

Subaru obeyed, scooting to his lover's position – and figuring out quickly what Mahiro wanted. He leaned over until he was on all fours, sticking his bottom up and out. “Like this?”

“Can you see the mirror?”

Subaru looked up – he could see very well indeed. “Yes.”

Mahiro reached next to the bed for the lube, slicking his fingers quickly, pressing the first one against Subaru's opening. He watched his lover's face in the mirror as he penetrated, then began to gently thrust, seeing an expression of pleasure steal over it slowly as sensation spread through the young man's body.

He pushed in the second finger, then the third, never taking his eyes from the mirror, from the picture of the two of them. They looked like they belonged together, because they were such a study in contrasts – Subaru blond and fair, Mahiro with dark hair and more olive-toned skin.

When Subaru was ready, he slid the fingers out and, as Mahiro lubed himself, he said, “Watch the mirror. Look at me.” He poured lube into the cleft, then grasped his hips, pushing in slowly.

Subaru drew in a breath, waiting for the pain to pass . . . but he did what Mahiro asked. He looked at the mirror. He saw his lover behind him, the expression of concentration on his face as he penetrated slowly, willing himself to not thrust fast and hard right away, to keep Subaru's pleasure in mind.

He continued to watch as Mahiro began to thrust slowly, pushing in and out of him gently, seeing a few beads of sweat start to run down his body, his skin beginning to glow with a pink flush. He watched the motion of his lover's hips, pushing forward as he felt the thrust into his body, the brush against sensitive nerve endings.

Subaru heard his lover's breath get faster, heavier, as he began to move more quickly and the thrusts became harder, sharper, deeper, taking Subaru's breath away. He moved along with Mahiro, watching the two of them together now, the way they were thrusting against each other in the heat of passion, as if they were trying to dissolve into one another.

They looked alive. Most definitely alive.

And there was the thrill of watching himself, of seeing the boy in the mirror in front of him moan and writhe, of seeing Mahirio's hips thrust as he felt that cock plunge into him, again and again . . . Watching your own videos was one thing, but it was a totally different experience to literally watch yourself get fucked.

Mahiro's fingers wrapped around Subaru's hardness, stroking it, and Subaru let out a loud moan, watching that hand moving on him, pleasuring him, feeling the hot sensations running all over his body with every motion of those fingers . . . he was close, almost there . . .

He watched as a thumb swept over the tip of his erection, and he let go of the last of his restraint, crying out loudly as the wave of ecstasy overcame him. Only then did he break his gaze from the mirror, closing his eyes because it was so good, so overwhelmingly good.

As his climax faded, he opened them again, and watched as Mahiro gripped his hips, thrusting hard into Subaru's body again and again, and finally letting out his own cry, throwing his head back as he gasped with passion, releasing himself into his lover.

The two of them fell to the bed, kissing tenderly, a welcome tangle of sweaty limbs. They snuggled together, still breathing heavily, Subaru still clinging to Mahiro, who kissed his lover again, softly.

“See?” Mahiro said. “I'm very much alive.”

“Mmm,” Subaru said. “Not going to argue.”

Mahiro just nestled against his lover, staying quiet . . . and starting to think. He'd had a trip down memory lane tonight. He'd gotten a lesson in what Subaru was talking about before – how what we'd done in our past was always a part of us, no matter what.

Tonight, he'd watched his own horror film acting for the first time in eons – and the effect it had on someone close to him. Real enough to make Subaru feel like he'd watched his lover die . . .

I was wrong, he thought. I thought I'd left that part of me in my rearview mirror . . . but it's not behind me for good.

He kissed Subaru. “I'll be back in a second, love,” he said. “Need to make a couple of quick calls.”

“Don't go away too long,” Subaru said.

The first calls – well, they'd probably be texts – would be to Junji and Tomoya, telling them Subaru was there and suggesting they all sleep there tonight (something the other two wouldn't object to). The second was to his old director, to tell him he'd definitely be going to the convention.

He and Junji would have their California honeymoon after all.

* * *

“Cool, it says here that Creepycon is one of the top five horror cons in America,” Junji read from his phone as they walked toward the office. Preparations for Kabuki Disco were in the final stages. Over the next couple of days, Mahiro was planning on having a getting-to-know-you evening with Kouki – since they'd be getting to know each other very well onscreen.

“Look out where you're going,” Mahiro told Junji. “Don't want to hit anyone.”

“Oh, I won't. Huh, and they've had some pretty big guests, too.” He reeled off the names of some top-shelf American horror directors and actors, plus a sought-after makeup artist. “Plus, it's in San Jose, which this site says is in 'the heart of Silicon Valley.' Hey, maybe we WILL be able to take a selfie with the Google sign!”

“If we have time,” Mahiro said. “I think most of my activity will be at the convention.”

“Maybe we can take an extra day and pay for it,” Junji said. “I wouldn't mind an extended honeymoon!” He put an arm around Mahiro. “I'm really proud of you, by the way. For both your international success and everything you've done until now. Not every guy can say he has a boyfriend who's been as successful as you.”

Successful? Yes. In both his past and current career – he could own all of it now. But that wasn't the greatest success of his life. No, that was his relationships – the fact that he had two guys he loved so much, and who brought different things into his life.

“Not every guy can say he's got someone like you in his life, either,” Mahiro said. And that was the greatest success of all.


End file.
